The First Wave
by silbecoo
Summary: When Irisa faces the first irresistible wave of primal longing, she faces a choice: Leave or give in to the desire. (set pre-show, irisa/nolan shippy)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I appreciate any feedback anyone deigns to give. This is an Irisa/Nolan ship story, so if that's not anyone's thing, I totally understand, but I've really enjoyed writing it, and there are several more chapters in the works. Please feel free to correct any canonical show lore that I've gotten wrong It's been a while since I've been able to watch it, and things are starting to slip away. (Also, I'm taking some liberties with Irathient biology and development, so there's that too). I'd love to hear what anyone thinks.**

When Irisa was very small, just tall enough for the top of her head to reach Nolan's elbow, she would follow him around like pet. Skittish and looking for an escape route should things go sour, they had a kind of shaky truce. Back then he called her "little one," and it made sense to her, in a very literal way. He towered over her like a giant, his measured strides so wide she had to run all the time to keep up with him. Being called little was perfectly logical, although he'd laughed when she's called him "large one" in response.

The memories all swirled together as she stared into her glass, watching bubbles collect along the beveled curve. It had been a very long time since he'd called her little one, fully grown as she was. He still outmatched her in size, his shoulders twice as broad as her own, hands proportionate to his limbs. The fermented drink in front of her couldn't hold her attention for long, and she found herself once again assessing him through hooded eyes. Someone unfamiliar with Joshua Nolan would say he was relaxed, legs spread wide in the rough-hewn chair, one hand loosely encircling a mug. Some might even miss seeing the other large hand resting gently on the handle of the pistol at his hip. She sighed. She missed the nickname.

It was confusing for her when he started calling her daughter. Neither of them had much experience with that type of relationship. Her own parents were nothing anyone should aspire to, and Irisa was resigned to being an orphan the rest of her life. She'd only looked at Nolan with fear and grudging awe in the beginning. And Nolan himself had only seemed to notice her when she trembled in fear. He didn't like it when she shrank into herself, head dropping down in terror when people stared at her, and frequently he drew her close to him as they strolled through dirty streets. Walking side by side, the hand laid protectively on her shoulder was like armor. It finally made her realize he wasn't out to hurt her like so many people before.

The atmosphere in the tavern around them was suddenly quiet, music floating on the air fading away as the barkeep restarted the worn out record. The song was familiar, and it brought back warmer memories from that uneasy time. Nolan used to sing softly to her in the dark when she couldn't sleep, one hand stroking her hair absentmindedly until she drifted off. Those simple songs from old earth were still imprinted in her memory, the lilting twang of Nolan's voice a soothing balm that slowed her stuttering pulse when nightmares accosted her.

But even now, sitting with him so genially in this place, she still couldn't reconcile Nolan and fatherhood. He wasn't a parent to her, didn't know how to be really. The label had developed over years out of necessity. Arched eyebrows and malicious looks cast in their direction when they paid for rooms in boarding houses along the road had made Nolan uncomfortable on more than one occasion. People made assumptions about them, rampant prejudices still permeating the settlements they stopped at along the road. Nolan soon discovered people rarely questioned his gruffly made assertion of fatherhood, especially when he had a gun on each hip.

Her initial skittishness soon faded into a distant memory, and Nolan responded to the way she opened up to him, asking her opinions, including her in bawdy jokes told in raucous saloons. There was something affectionate about the way his eyes crinkled when he was making fun of her, and her stomach would go to fluttering in a way she was sure wasn't daughterly. The twitch at the corner of his mouth, a precursor to the devastating smile he threw in her direction, resulted in a corresponding twitch of her own. She was helpless against it.

And he trusted her. In bar fights, or frantic skirmishes along the road, she was right there with him. As small as she was, people usually underestimated her agility, the element of surprise as effective a weapon as any other. They were a kind of a team by the time she was fully grown. Their reputation preceded them these days, and most people gave them a wide berth when they rolled into town.

At the moment, they were waiting for a contact, some down on his luck trader looking to sell information about an arkfall that no one else seemed to know about it. Irisa was dubious about the information, but Nolan didn't seem to mind the fact that their new business associate was a no show. He had other things to occupy him while they waited, the most prominent of which being several scantily clad ladies who worked at the tavern. She wasn't afforded such pleasant distractions.

She saw the way people looked at her, like she were a ticking bomb about to go off at any second, the shuttered glances they cast at Nolan in particular when they realized they were together. She'd first noticed it when her body began to change, the straight lines and sharp angles of childhood becoming lithe muscles and graceful curves.

There had always been a general feeling of unease in the gaze of strangers, but it was only recently that Irisa had begun to feel like maybe they were right, maybe she didn't belong with Nolan. Her otherness had become more apparent, and something was shifting inside of her, making her dissatisfied with the current status quo. She could survive on her own. Her chances out in the world without him were, with all the things he'd taught her, better than the average person. A practical part of her had been quietly whispering that she set out on her own soon, even if it made her carefully concealed emotions swirl unpleasantly in her stomach. Passing across the invisible threshold into adulthood was a difficult period for anyone, but for an Irathient it came with a specific set of challenges that humans weren't prepared to deal with.

She knew what the men eyeing the two of them assumed and often said just out of earshot. Had Nolan been a different kind of man, they probably would have been right. Even now there were a couple scavengers sitting at the bar, casting them curious glances. It wasn't unusual for human males to take Votan lovers. Nolan's quick denials, his frequent "kiddo's" and paternal shoulder pats were as much defensive as they were protective. She'd seen the tops of his ears flame with anger during more than a few conversations with strangers recently. She could guess the gist of those talks, and she didn't think they were referring to her as his daughter.

Secretly, she didn't want to sit and watch as he flirted with his paid sexual partners and the barmaids with glowing eyes, but a sadistic part of her would rather know the kinds of women he was drawn to than remain in ignorance. Her mind unconsciously drew contrasts between them and herself, heart sinking when she realized just how different they were.

She shifted in her seat, feeling edgier than usual. Her muscles quivered with electricity just under the surface. It had always been difficult for her to listen to these lewd exchanges, but in the past two weeks it had gone from vaguely unpleasant to downright torturous, an odd mixture of irritation and intrigue bubbling up inside of her as she observed the pawing.

It was impossible to tell if Nolan could sense this jealousy in her, this tightly coiled desire and curiosity. He'd taken to looking at her with his head cocked to the side, as though she were a riddle he was trying to solve. He constantly seemed like he was on the verge of an epiphany and it was beginning to unnerve her. Not only that, but she'd caught him staring daggers at any man that looked at her sideways, as if he knew the lewd and lascivious thoughts rattling around in their tiny brains. Her already taciturn nature became more pronounced, the tenuous bond they'd struggled to form over the years pulled taut. Something had to give.

There was something strangely subservient about the relationships between male and female humans, and these simpering paramours set Irisa's teeth on edge. She'd always been grateful this dynamic didn't apply to her and Nolan, but now she wanted nothing more than for Nolan to look at her like he did them, like a cat about to devour a bowl of cream, full of anticipation and self-satisfaction. The thought made her shiver as she sat quietly across from him. He didn't notice, as usual.

It irked her when she was relegated to the status of child, shoved in the corner while the adults went off to play. Tonight, that unease was morphing into tightly wound frustration, and it had her twisting roughly at one of her bracelets until she snapped the leather straps. Damn it, it was one of her favorites too.

The hot atmosphere was beginning to get to her, the warmth magnified by the persistent heat gathering in her belly. It shot down her legs and set her toes to curling in her boots whenever Nolan laughed at some stupid joke the hovering hussy told.

They'd been sitting here in this dank and slightly musty tavern for what seemed like hours, Nolan drinking more than he should, a hot flush creeping up the skin of his neck as he slammed his hand down on the table, ordering another round. As always, she sat there quietly, sipping on hard cider, but her normal focus was shattered, all of her senses coalescing on one person. Again and again she was drawn to the drunkenly bemused expression on Nolan's face as he threw his head back in laughter.

As the hour grew late, empty flagons collecting on the table, she watched the women grow impatient, putting their wares on display as thought they were out in the market. Nolan winked at one of them, his finger crooking at her. That was all it took, and she was there right beside him, a pitcher of beer in one hand, the supple flesh of her breasts spilling over the low cut of her blouse.

The enthusiastic young woman plopped down in Nolan's lap, brazenly pressing herself against him, and Irisa felt a burning zing of jealousy course through her, a proprietary sensation that had her reaching for her concealed dagger.

Nolan turned to Irisa as though it were normal to have a conversation with a half naked woman sitting in his lap. "Looks like we've been stood up."

She squelched the desire to pounce on the woman, to shove the giggling bundle of lace and satin off of Nolan's lap. Instead she took his comment for what it was, her cue to leave. She quietly scooted back from the table and excused herself. "Just as well, I had a bad feeling about him."

Nolan nodded, already distracted once again by the woman wiggling against him, eyes shining with lust. "Always trust your instincts, kiddo."

He wasn't listening for a response, so she didn't give him one, stalking out into the dark night alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I've got about three chapters already written for this fic. Love to hear what anyone has to say. Don't be shy.**

By the time Irisa reached their rooms she was vibrating with anger, mostly at herself, but at Nolan too, for putting her in this position.

It only mildly surprised her that the rapidly fluctuating tide of hormones would set its sights on the nearest target. She was Irathient. What little she knew about her race indicated that she was going into the first sexual peak of adulthood. He should have known, and he should have done something about it, introduced her to more people, sent her away, anything that would have prevented this feeling.

She slammed the door behind her, finding small satisfaction in the crack of wood against the frame. He wasn't her father, damn it. There was no instinctive biological repulsion to kept her from viewing him as a viable mate. That's how it worked with humans, wasn't it? Or maybe it was a social development that made it some kind of internalized taboo. Either way, neither seemed to apply to this specific person.

When she dropped down into her nest of blankets, she pushed away the sight of him whispering up into the woman's ear, lips bumping against the gemstone that was suspended from her lobe. The sound of his desire laden chuckle had vibrated through her center, setting her pulse to throbbing. She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory.

Unfortunately, the images continued to play behind her eyelids, morphing into a darkly lit bedroom scene. All she could think about were Nolan's lips pressing hungrily into the soft white flesh of his new companion's perfumed neck, such a contrast to her own ruddy complexion. She could feel his big hands grabbing at the woman desperately, peeling off the layers of clothing until nothing was left between them but a faint sheen of sweat. She was panting as she unlaced the placket at the top of her trousers, palm resting gently on her lower abdomen before her hand dipped lower.

She resented this arousal that buffeted her from every direction, mostly because the focus of it was a man who would balk at the idea of bedding her. She'd seen animals rutting in the woods, and a few drunken louts, grunting against a wall with their pants around their ankles as they took their pleasure with the nearest willing female under the cover of night. Humans were not nearly as discreet as they imagined.

She'd often wondered whether or not sex was worth all the trouble many went through to get it. But now, when she thought about his frantically grinding hips and the sweaty tangle of limbs, she felt a gentle ache pulsing through her body, a physiological reaction that had never really been there before. The persistent need between her thighs set her face to burning as her fingers slipped into the wet heat, her legs twitching as she found the source of the electricity zipping through her in the dark. The breath caught in her throat, a moan escaping through clenched teeth. She let the fantasy envelop her.

Nolan's face materialized behind her closed eyes, his head dropping down low at her breast, phantom touches skimming across her body as her thundering pulse crested in a heart stopping crescendo. The images became too clear, colors bursting in her skull as she arched her back involuntarily. Her eyes snapped open in horror, graceful fingers withdrawing abruptly from the slick folds. She could feel her pulse skittering at her throat, aftershocks fluttering between her legs. She caught her shaky breath and squeezed her eyes shut. It couldn't be like this. He'd never looked at her that way, and he never would.

With the rush of endorphins came a certain about of clarity. She couldn't be around him feeling this way. She contemplated making a run for it, snatching his carefully concealed money belt even as the tears dried on her cheeks and slipping out unnoticed. The idea was just beginning to gain a real shape when the door flew open, a single beam of light cutting across the room.

Her eyes narrowed, adjusting to the light as she watched Nolan stumble into their quarters. He was half asleep, smelling like cheap perfume and even cheaper liquor. Her plan fell apart as he collapsed onto the bed, failing to unbuckle the money belt or even kick off his boots. She lay as still as possible, waiting till his breathing evened out into sawing snores before she crept out from under her blankets on the floor.

Inching toward the bed, she intended to use her dagger to cut the belt off of him. But he caught her, eyes fluttering open at the sound of her feet shuffling across the hardwood. Quickly, she hid the weapon, eyes wide with panic. She'd seen Nolan react swiftly and violently to those threatening his life, and her heart pounded as she imagined the hot lead of bullets ripping through her skin.

Nothing happened, except for Nolan looking at her rather strangely as she stood frozen like a statue, sleep still pulling at the corners of his mouth. "What's wrong, kiddo? Bad dream?"

She was breathing heavily, quite like she did when she had nightmares. She didn't know her nightly terrors were still as obvious as they'd always been. He certainly hadn't said anything to her about them in months, but now he was lifting the blanket draped over him, gesturing for her to join him in the bed, to find safety from bad dreams in his embrace. Her legs moved forward, even as her brain screamed at her to stop, and she was under the warm blanket in a matter of seconds.

He was solid against her back, and so damn warm. Clearly still a bit inebriated, he began to snore again almost immediately, and Irisa turned to face him. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, like someone had ran their fingers through it, tugging at it. Her own fingers itched to feel the strands slipping against the sensitive skin. She tucked them under her arms protectively, quivering in protest.

But it didn't stop her from scooting closer to him, nuzzling into his chest and breathing deeply. She could smell the woman on him, not just the cheap perfume, but _her_. Everyone had a different scent, sweat and pheromones producing a unique chemistry. All of Irisa's already heightened senses were sharpened, and her nose was keenly aware of every chemical compound. She could easily sift through the pleasantly earthy and sometimes sweaty tones of Nolan, picking out any stray aromas. It's how she knew he'd done more with his mouth than kissing. It intrigued and angered her at the same time, blood rushing through her as her heart began to pound again. The very idea that someone might lavish such attention on that apex of desire made her press her thighs together, a shudder of anticipation running through her.

Nolan shifted against her, one arm slipping across her midsection and pulling her close. She felt safe and vulnerable at the same time, the invisible shield she kept buzzing around her body at all times dropping only like it did with him. It would be so easy to turn to him, lay gentle kisses along his collarbone until he awoke. He would be shocked at first, but Irisa believed that shock would quickly turn into acquiescence. The prospect was more than tempting, but something stopped her. She knew for humans sexual relationships complicated things, romantic feelings often developed, giving rise to jealousy and anger. There was nothing in this world that would make her give up Nolan's companionship, she realized, not even the overwhelming ebb and flow of sexual desire. It was simply biological and it would subside, she kept telling herself.

She couldn't leave him, and she wasn't going to give into this lust that permeated all of her cells. That left only one option really. She had to do what Nolan did and find someone willing to sate her needs for a handful of coins. It shouldn't be too hard. She'd ask Nolan about the logistics of such a transaction in the morning.

She fell asleep in his arms, finally able to relax once she had a plan in place. Her anxiety floated away like wheat chaff on a windy day, leaving her limp in his arms, dreaming of the most inappropriate things.


	3. Chapter 3

"WHAT!?" Nolan bellowed at her, his voice echoing like thunder off the thin walls of their room.

The volume surprised Irisa, and she stopped digging around in her satchel to look back up at him. "If you don't know, I can find one myself. I just thought-"

He closed the space between them in a flash, grabbing her arm roughly. The coins in her hand clattered to the floor and she stared at him, anger flashing in her eyes. A little thrill of fear that shot through her, watching the anger flicker across his face, the disbelief. "Get your hands off of me." Her command was spoken lowly in a tranquil voice. It belied the violence coiled in her muscles, the passion flashing her her bright eyes.

Nolan forced himself to take a step back from her, loosening his tight grip. He wasn't quite able to erase the frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as he tried to process her question. He felt winded, chest rising and falling rather rapidly in the wake of his initial surprise. "What makes you think I would know where to find a male prostitute?"

"You know where to find the female ones. It only goes to follow." She'd meant for the statement to come out flatly, very matter of fact, but her tone was telling, disgust and jealousy dripping from her words. Schooling her features, she concealed the waves of embarrassment flooding her, the ever present mask of stoicism slipping back into place.

She snatched up the coins, shoving them back in her satchel before spinning on her heel. She fully intended to stride out of the room and avoid Nolan for the rest of the day until this mortification abated.

But he had other plans, following close behind until he overtook her, blocking her path. This time his hands on her shoulders were gentle yet firm. "Irisa. Look at me."

She didn't want to. This was how he did it. He'd look past the smooth lines of her mouth, the unflinching muscles of her face, and into her eyes. It was like he could see the emotions swirling in the golden depths, draw them up through her center like water flowing through the path of least resistance. This unnerved her more than his dangerous side. She didn't know how he did it, humans didn't have any measurable telepathic powers that she was aware of.

At the light touch of his fingers on her wrist, she looked up. His face softened in reaction to the turmoil in her eyes. "Irisa, what is going on?"

Her jaw worked, not wanting to reveal her problem. Unable to see any alternative, she forced herself to say the words in l'irathi just to keep a small barrier between them. " _Zmaine-sazri_."

He frowned in concentration, brow knitting as he translated. "Woman fire?"

Rolling her eyes, she pushed past him again, growling under her breath. "Don't be so literal." Her cheeks were flaming. A hot flush suffused her already ruddy skin as she walked away, praying he wouldn't follow.

* * *

It only took Nolan a few seconds to put two and two together. In spite of what Irisa thought, he knew more about her people than she'd ever imagined, and it was his turn to be embarrassed. He'd pushed it to the back of his mind for years, knowing that it wasn't something related to age. The _zmaine-sazr_ i was impossible to predict, and therefore senseless to worry about.

It wasn't long before he fell in step beside her again, his boots crunching the gravel on the path as they marched along. Blessedly, they walked in silence, and Nolan scoured his brain for how to fix this problem. Clearly Irisa had decided the best course of action was to just deal with it head on, find a sexual partner and attend to the urges as they came about. He knew it was perfectly reasonable, but anytime his mind wandered to the possibility, his hands fisted at his sides. Knuckles white with tension, his nostrils flared as he blew out an angry breath. The idea of her writhing in pleasure underneath some stranger was more than a little unsettling.

Finally the words just tumbled out. "Are you sure about this? You're not just coming down with something? Some bug?"

She gave him a withering look, shifting her satchel as they walked along. "Don't be an idiot."

He sighed, unbidden images of indelicate scenes flashing in his mind before he could bat them away. How long had she been feeling this way? She'd seemed warmer than usual pressed up against him this morning, soft mewling noises issuing from her parted lips in sleep. Desire darted through him unexpectedly. He cleared his throat and asked, "When?"

"I can't say exactly. It comes on slowly. All I know, is I can't ignore it anymore." She sighed. "The few female Irathients I've spoken to in our travels have told me some things. They say it's not good to ignore it for long." She looked down as she spoke, counting her steps, watching the dust settle on the toes of her boots. Discomfort rolled off her in great waves. "The persistent… feeling can make you go insane if you don't do something about it."

Nolan carded one hand through his hair, struggling not to look uncomfortable. "Well, can't you, uh, do something about it… yourself?"

She laughed derisively trying to cover up the embarrassment now seeping into her skin."You don't think I've tried that? At a certain point, it just isn't enough."

Nolan saw her flush anyway, and scoured his mind for a way to retract the awkward question, words failing him. She stopped abruptly, turning on him angrily. "I can't believe you don't understand. You of all people should know what this is like."

" _Me?_ What are you talking about?" The volume of his voice raised once again, annoyance getting the better of him.

"Why else would you constantly be on the prowl for women, notching yourself between a different pair of willing thighs whenever you have the opportunity?"

Christ, did she think that about him? Sure, he was a commitaphobe, and men did have needs, but it was hardly the same. "It's not like that."

"It isn't? I thought human men experienced this constantly. They're always talking about sex, making jokes about it, grabbing their-"

He cut her off, alarmed that she'd observed so much. "No, we uh… don't… exactly…"

"Then why do you-"

Throwing his hands up, he cut her off again. "We're not talking about me, we're talking about you."

Shrugging, she let it go. "Okay, then tell me where to buy the services of a sexual partner."

"No."

"Why not? You do it all the time."

"Irisa!" He growled out her name, nostrils flaring in frustration. Huffing out a long suffering breath, he tried to explain. "I do it because… it's fun, and no one gets hurt. I want to do it. This is different. You shouldn't…" He didn't have the words, and they were rapidly approaching the open air market, presumably where she intended to start asking around for a male prostitute. "You're too young!"

She frowned, trying to grasp his meaning. "That doesn't make any sense. I am the age that this happens. Of course I'm not too young."

"I mean, for the... emotional side of this. You're too young."

"You don't know how old I am. How many times do I have to remind you that we're not the same?" She stopped walking and turned to him. "By human years I am twenty-three."

"What?" Nolan was sure she couldn't be more than seventeen, counting back the years since he'd rescued her.

She shook her head, sighing. "But that has no bearing on my development. I'm not a human, these things aren't exactly relative."

Nolan's shoulders slumped in defeat, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You're still in the early stages of this, right?"

Nodding, she looked at him quizzically, keeping quiet so he could continue.

"There's a large settlement three days from here, and I'm sure they have doctors, and other Irathients who can tell you what to do. Can you maybe, um, deal with it until we get there?"

"I can try."

"That's my girl." An awkward smile twitched at his lips, and he clapped his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to regain their easy camaraderie.

She bristled at the endearment, pulling away from him. "We should probably limit touching until this is taken care of. I'm not your anything."

Nolan stilled, and Irisa continued on, seemingly unaware of how taken aback he was by her statement. He watched her disappear into a knife sharpener's tent, not bothering to glance back at him.

Not his anything? She'd said it so angrily, as if this situation were his fault. It pissed him off. All he had ever done was care for her, at least in the best way he knew how. He knew nothing of raising a child, let alone a child from an alien race. He knew even less about having a woman for a companion. He treated her like a partner in crime most of the time, and paid little mind to her more feminine pursuits. It seemed cruel when he thought about it that way, but the alternative was something he didn't like.

She'd been sullen and distrustful when he'd first rescued her, eyes full of suspicion whenever he offered her anything. He'd known about the secret little blade she'd palmed the first week they'd been together. The sharp weapon had lived strapped under her shirt for nearly an entire year. It was only when she felt comfortable enough with him to abandon it that he started showing her how to use it properly. Now he wasn't so sure they'd gotten past that initial distrust.

She'd saved his life more than once, cracking a skull or two in barroom brawls, sending him a word of warning when blood thirsty scavengers crept up on him. It was as though he'd had an angry little pixie following him around, and one day he'd looked up and suddenly her head was higher than his shoulders sitting atop the body of a graceful and athletic adult.

The girl he'd been calling daughter for years was a woman, and beautiful at that. He'd never seen anyone with eyes quite so big, huge pools that stared right through him sometimes. In recent months it had become a pastime of his to draw out a smile, or a laugh. She only did it for him, and he couldn't quite tamp down the feeling of smug satisfaction when she stared blankly at flirting men making stupid jokes. Her stone faced demeanor was useful in bartering situations and less than honest card games, but lately her infrequent bright smiles felt like morning sunshine spilling over him.

She was the only family he had. He called her daughter because… well what the hell else was he supposed to call her? He was old enough to be her father, or so he'd always thought. She wasn't his sister, no one could fill that role anymore, and she certainly wasn't one of his fleeting lovers. But she'd said not to touch her anymore, as if his innocently affectionate hugs had some kind of effect…

That last thought gave him pause. It wasn't as though it hadn't crossed his mind, at least through the eyes of other people. Usually when they rolled into a settlement, it was the first assumption anyone made. The more people said it, the more often the thought came unbidden to his mind, but up until today he'd thought she was patently uninterested in sex of any kind, and it made it easy to push down the disquieting thoughts, set them aside for someone else.

She had wondered angrily why he constantly sought the company of the women at the bars, and he'd only been partially honest. Yes, he enjoyed their company, and would have needed it on occasion regardless, but sometimes after many nights out on the road, curled up with Irisa under an itchy wool blanket, he couldn't help but wonder at the feeling of her pressed up against him, sometimes clinging tightly to him as she suffered through a nightmare. She made his blood thrum as his heart tapped out a double time. It was lust, plain and simple, and he'd spent plenty a night berating himself for such a wrong headed thing.

But her _zmaine-sazri_ had blown all of this out in the open, forcing unbidden images into his mind, and making him aware of an insidious jealousy when she'd mentioned taking a stranger to bed. And now she was saying, "I'm not yours," as if he had laid some kind of misguided claim to her.

His shoulders were hunched forward as he marched toward the ramshackle tavern sitting in the middle of the market. He couldn't think about this anymore without at least getting some food in him, the smell of roasting meat wafted through the swinging doors and settled in his nose. He would need all the strength he could get in order to get through the next few days.


	4. Chapter 4

"Stop looking at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you," Nolan lied. He averted his eyes, twisting in his sleeping bag so she couldn't pin him with a glare if she checked. He focused on staring up at the thin material of their tent instead.

Tonight there was a full moon and a cloudless sky, and Nolan had never been able to sleep with so much light. He hadn't realized he was watching her so intently until she had snapped him out of it. He'd been cataloging each twist of her lips, every muffled whimper, wondering what the hell was going on in her dreams. She was flushed, like a low grade fever was raising her temperature, heat radiating from her.

She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. "I can feel you staring."

He snorted. "You can't feel me staring. One: because I'm not, and two: because someone staring at you isn't tangible, even to an Irathient."

She huffed, flipping back over. "It's a tingling sensation on my neck, seeping into my spinal cord and shooting out across my neural network. I can feel it. Stop."

"Do you feel it now?" Nolan made sure not to take his eyes off the roof of the tent. He twitched slightly when the shadow of a bat zipped across the thin surface.

She paused, assessing the feeling still swimming through her limbs. "Yes."

"Well, I'm not looking, so it's all in your head." His response was a little gruffer than he'd intended, but he'd been dealing with her surliness all day, and it was beginning to wear on him. He looked at her again, this time noting the way she was curled up, hugging herself tightly in the fetal position, discomfort apparent in every line of her body. "Maybe we should just go back to the original plan and make a straight shot for Defiance."

She only grunted in response at first, scooting even farther from him. "Your friend said there's unspoiled arkfall just a few miles from here. It would be stupid to miss an opportunity like that."

Nolan regretted telling her that. The soft spoken trader had tracked him down just after his uncomfortable conversation with Irisa, apologizing profusely for missing him the night before. Nolan was usually a good judge of character, and Mr. Boon had only asked for a finder's fee, pointing to his club foot when Nolan questioned why he didn't go after the arkfall himself. Taking an extra day to go check this out hadn't seemed like such a bad idea at the time. Irisa's condition hadn't seemed quite so urgent.

He felt differently now, watching her tremble with need in front of him. He opened his mouth to tell her they would forget the arkfall, but she spoke before he could say a thing. "Nolan?"

His name was hoarse, like a child recovering from a fever. She turned over with a swiftness that surprised him, sitting straight up to stare at him. Her eyes were wide, almost glassy in the glow of moonlight. The sheen of sweat on her body more apparent now that he could see her face.

"Why did you keep me?"

"Keep you?" He sat up, frowning at her strange question.

"In the beginning. Why didn't you just give me to someone? You weren't exactly fond of my kind."

"I'm fond of you."

"Answer the question."

"Irisa -."

"Tell me."

"I was fond of you."

"The truth."

"There wasn't anyone to leave you with. Times were hard, and I couldn't just abandon you."

"Your morality." She sighed, shoulders slumping in disappointment. She'd known already, but hearing it still made her heart sink.

"My what?"

Her only response was to turn away, intent on burying herself in the sleeping bag and trying not to cry. But he grabbed her elbow, easing her back to face him.

"Fine. No, I couldn't have lived with myself if I had saved you only to abandon you to God knows what kind of existence. Saving someone's life... it makes you responsible for that life."

"Obligation then."

"I _am_ fond of you." This statement was accompanied by a gentle squeeze and pleading expression. "It didn't take very long, I swear."

He grinned at her, pearly whites flashing in the moonlight as he donned his most charming persona. "Once you started talking to me, you were such a little smartass, and so intelligent. I knew I'd made the right decision."

Like a dog with a bone she just couldn't let it go. All these years on the road with him simply because no one else wanted her. "I owe you my life."

It wasn't an expression of thankfulness, but rather one of deep sadness. Nolan's heart squeezed tightly as he watched her gaze drop. "Hey, let's call it even. You've had my back ever since. You're my family."

"I need more than that. I need..." She couldn't bring herself to say the words, not yet. "Do you have any idea how _lonely_ this is?"

Her voice trembled on the last word, the threatening tears making her throat thick. Nolan's smile faltered. He was speechless in the face of her misery.

Her tears spilled over, splashing hotly down her cheeks. She swallowed the lump in her throat, sitting back to bury her face in her knees. She mumbled against the leather of her trousers. "Of course you don't. Everyone loves Joshua Nolan. Men want to be him and women want to screw him."

He tried to rub comforting circles on her back, but she twisted away from him. "Please don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?"

"Because I'm one of those women, Nolan." The words came out in an angry breathless whisper. "When I look at you I want to slip my hands under your shirt to feel your skin against mine."

As if to demonstrate that need, she lunged toward him, hands finding the hem of his soft cotton shirt, fingertips burning against his skin. She skated over his abdomen, the breath catching in her throat as she counted the valleys and ridges. "I want you to kiss me until I can't think. I want to climb all over you and finally find some kind of release for this ache deep inside of me. I want to _devour_ you."

She hissed the last statement at him, hands drifting down to the waist of his trousers, crouching on her knees as if she was ready to pounce. "I want you to touch me, Nolan. Every day it gets worse, but it's been there for so long."

Shoulders rolling, a shiver ran up her spine, making her whole body tremble. Nolan could see the silver tracks of fresh tears on her cheeks, a flush there visible even in the night. The feel of her fingers left trails of fire on his skin, sent little sparks along his nervous system. Her eyes glowed as they threw back the reflected light.

Swiftly, her hands came up and encircle his neck, dragging him down to meet her lips She kissed him desperately, clinging to him like a sturdy oak in the middle of a thunderstorm. He swayed, leaning into her passionate embrace before coming back to himself and pulling away.

The look on her face was pure hunger, only flickering into embarrassment when the rejection settles over her. Her voice is nothing but a hot whisper now. "Have pity."

Raising one hand, he eased it toward her slowly as if she were a feral animal and he was afraid of being attacked. When it lit on her shoulder, he nearly drew back in surprise. She was so damn hot. Speaking slowly, he infused his words with as much calmness as possible. "Irisa, you don't know what you're doing. This is a medical condition."

She sprang up, eyes flashing with hurt as she darted through the opening of the tent, careening off into the night like a shot. Nolan stared after her retreating form. Cursing softly, he parted the flaps of the tent and took off after her.


	5. Chapter 5

She could smell it, the faintly earthy mineral scent of flowing water. This particular stream was leaching away the iron deposits along the bank. Her pupils dilated to full capacity, she ran full tilt into the dark woods. Her path was so clear, it's was if the sun were peaking through the dense foliage of the forest canopy and not the waning moon. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew there would be some relief if she could just make it to the cool bubbling water.

The heat throbbing between her legs begged for release, and her skin crawled with the need to be touched. It just wasn't fair. She'd had one small taste of him, and he hadn't responded at all. The soles of her boots thumped along the moss growing on the forest floor. In another time she would have been tempted to stop and test the springy material with her fingertips, pluck the moist growth from the ground and hold it to her nose. The smell of wet dirt and dew would have been calming to her soul, a pendulum inside of her finally finding some kind of balance. She'd always felt a connection with the natural world, most at ease when she was surrounded by the greens and browns of the sighing forest. It offered no succor in her current state, and she continued to run, the air becoming cooler as she neared the source of water.

Her breasts were painfully sensitive as she jogged, the tightened nipples constrained by the soft tunic brushing against them. She wanted to shed everything, run with abandon naked through the dark, to feel the wind against her exposed flesh as the balmy night wicked away the uncomfortable heat. Her flesh begged to be kneaded, sucked at hungrily as sharp stubble raked across her skin. She could still feel his lips on hers, and the tactile sensation was could easily be applied to other parts of her body. The panting noises surrounding her had very little to do with the fast pace her legs took.

Her boots squished into the damp clay of the riverbank, the sound of the gurgling water for the first time landing on her ears. A whimper escaped her lips, and Irisa dropped down to her knees in thanks, the relief at the sight of the flashing silver wavelets was almost enough to make her cry again.

The placket at her waist was undone in mere seconds, the sleeping tunic sailed through the air to join the trousers laying in a heap on the bank with her boots. Finally, the cool air kissed her skin, swirling around her limbs like an attentive lover. She shivered, goosebumps cascading across her belly and down her legs.

The waters parted seamlessly, her slender body like a hot knife sliding through butter as she dove toward the rocks at the bottom. The further she went, the cooler it was, and darker too. She held her breath as long as possible, willing the chilling depths to take the searing heat from her body. It was only when her lungs began to burn that she swiftly kicked back to the surface, breaking through the gently cresting wavelets with a sharp gasp.

Her heart thudded against her sternum, it's pace slowing down as she caught her breath. Tossing her head back, she floated through the water, arms and legs out like a pinwheel as the currents encircled her. Nolan was no match for her speed, but she knew he was a good tracker. He couldn't be far behind, but it was impossible for her to must the modesty needed to crawl back up on the bank and hide in her clothes once more.

Her mind free from the blinding fog of lust, she was able to see that her feelings ran far deeper than she was willing to admit. Nolan would never be able to look at her the same if he ever found out how desperately she loved him. It was lunacy, madness that had nothing to do with the hormones flooding her body, a secret she was convinced she would take to the grave.

She heard him before she saw him, twigs snapping beneath his clamboring feet. He was running at full speed, slipping and sliding against the thick piles of dead leaves at the forest's edge. He called out her name, breathless as he gasped to catch his breath. "Irisa!"

Sighing, she kicked back toward the bank, her toes catching the smooth rocks in the shallows as she emerged from the water. He stared at her, eyes wide with his exertions. Her clothes were already bundled up in his hands, and he took three steps out into the water to drag her back onto shore, completely ignoring her state of undress. "We have to get out of here."

He kept looking over his shoulder, as if there was someone behind him. "Someone's been following us, for a while." He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "God, I can't believe I didn't notice before."

He shoved the damp tunic into her hands, silently urging her to get dressed and get a move on, eyes averted from her nudity. She acquiesced, shaking the garment out. Just as she was about to throw it over her head, a large cracking noise rang out over the gulley. The unmistakable echo of gunfire sharp against the rocks.

Nolan reacted instantly, reaching forward and grabbing her round the waist before tossing her over his shoulder. He was running back into the woods before she could voice her protests, one arm wrapped around her thighs as they bumped along.

She whacked him on the back, small fists pummelling the tense muscles. "Put me down! I can run faster than you, even without shoes."

He darted behind the wide trunk of an ancient tree, settling her down gently. She reached for one of the guns at his waist and he feinted away from her. "Come on, Nolan. You have two!"

Grunting, he reluctantly withdrew one of the pistols, handing it over to her. The gunmetal glinted in the moonlight. She hefted the weight in her hand, stopping to check the ammunition. Satisfied, she turned to assess the great tree behind her. There were gnarled knots along the trunk, and big thick limbs hanging twelve feet above them. She turned away from Nolan, scrambling halfway up the tree before he could even say anything. "We need to split up. You keep going, and when they come through here, I'll pick them off."

"We're not splitting up."

She wanted to stay with him, truly, but they'd both be dead if they took that route. He looked up at her his jaw clenched tight. "Staying together is stupid. They're right behind us, Nolan."

He looked behind him, indecision and pain flashing across his face. "If you're not with me in fifteen minutes, I'm coming back."

* * *

She watched Nolan take off through the scrub, zigging and zagging in an attempt to throw off their pursuers. Irisa crouched in the crook of a massive limb, pistol cocked and ready to fire. She waited, listening intently for the sound of lumbering idiots. They were nothing but a bunch of useless bandits, looking to steal a roller and whatever guns Nolan had on him. Irisa wasn't ignorant of what fate she would have at their hands, and the thought made her shudder in disgust.

She was grateful for her heightened senses. Eyes peeled, she gazed out across the forest, and when she heard the labored panting of their sloppy pursuers, she almost relished beading the fine point of her sights on them. One shot rang out through the air, nailing the leader of the two man pack. He dropped to the ground with a thud. She swung her gun around and tapped out two more shots, big red blooms of blood fanning out across the second man's dirty shirt.

The thrill of adrenaline coursed through her, her heart doubling in pace as the tension snapped. She peered through the canopy, searching for quieter bandits, but found nothing at all. Satisfied that the ragtag duo was alone, she shimmied down the trunk, landing on a bed of soft pine needles.

She was nearly back to the roller, when she heard it, the tell tale snap of a twig under a heavy boot directly behind her. She spun on her heel, swinging up the arm with the pistol, but her attacker was two steps ahead of her, knocking the weapon to the ground, and pinning her up against the nearest tree.

One smelly paw covered her mouth instantly, erasing any hope she had of calling out for Nolan. She looked into glowing yellow eyes and sharpened teeth. This man was not like any human she'd ever encountered before, big as a bear and radiating pure evil. He pressed up against her, one knee wedging between her legs. He sniffed at her. "Mmm, girl, you're quite ripe, aren't ya?"

She tried to bite at the flesh of his palm, but it was tough as leather against her teeth, and he only pressed down harder, making it more difficult to breath. His free hand began to roam over her body, squeezing roughly at her exposed breast before dropping down to pry her thighs apart.

She squeezed her eyes shut, prepared to slip into a hypnotic state of denial. She'd perfected it during the awful torture of her childhood, but couldn't help the tears that streamed down her face as she contemplated what was about to happen. How could she have been so careless? This man had lagged behind his companions intentionally, waiting for those idiots to muck things up, waiting for her to fall into a false sense of security.

"Let her go."

Nolan's voice was deadly, low and full of murder. Her captor reacted instantly, jerking her away from the tree and turning her into a living shield. The behemoth laughed evilly in her ear, the stench of his breath making her want to gag as it floated in the air.

He called out to Nolan. "Come on, man, I caught her fair and square. Go back to your roller. I'm sure you can find a better bed warmer than an Irathient bitch in the next town over."

The rumbling laugh at her back was cut short by gunfire, a bullet catching him directly in the forehead. His arms went limp around her and he fell forward, knocking them both to the ground. She was pinned underneath him, panic rising in her chest as she felt the life escaping his body.

Nolan tossed aside the giant easily, scooping Irisa up in his arms. His hand cradled her head to his chest, dropping a gentle kiss down on her wet hair. "Come on, little one."

He carried her away from the gruesome scene, but she could still smell the iron tang of freshly spilled blood on the air, the sting of gunpowder in her nostrils. Nolan's arms banded around her tightly, holding her to him like he would never let go. She let herself settle into the embrace, knowing it couldn't actually last long.

 **A/N: I don't have a beta for this story, and I do try to scan for typos etc, but I totally miss them most of the time, my brain just fills in the gaps it seems. So, there's that. Other than that i like the way this story is going. Let me know what you think, if you're reading. The next chapter will be, ahem, steamy...**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Fair warning, this chapter is definitely rated M... just so anyone who doesn't want to read that kind of thing doesn't.**

When they got back to the roller, Nolan set Irisa down gently, the dust between her toes soft and cool. She watched him in the moonlight, pointedly ignoring her as he dug around in his duffle bag. He didn't say a word, pulling a clean shirt from underneath his things. He thrust it at her, silently imploring her to drag it over her head. She complied, regretting it instantly as his scent enveloped her.

He could finally look at her again, gaze no longer averted from her naked body. His jaw was set, nostrils flaring as he stared at her, but she knew it was just a front. He had his mouth closed so tightly because he was afraid of what he might say. Blowing out a long breath, he finally released his frustration. "Don't run away from me like that. It's too dangerous out here."

The words were clipped, emotion squeezing the life out of them. Seeing her in the grips of such a dangerous and vile man made Nolan sick, the sights of his gun not wavering one millimeter as he targeted her attacker between the eyes. He was shaking with adrenaline now, a barely noticeable vibration in his fingertips. "He could have killed you, slit your throat like a butcher culling lambs. After using your body like a - like a -" He choked on the words, the mask of anger falling away.

She closed the space between them, slender footprints left in the dust as she threw her arms around his neck.

All he could do was hold her tightly, the fluttering warmth of her skin proof that she was still alive and breathing. She clung to him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder, Sadness swished around her words like smoke curling off dying embers. "I don't know what else to do."

He knew what she was talking about. Nothing had changed really. There was no easy solution to her problem, but he couldn't help but be surprised that she was still feeling the inexorable pull of desire after brushing so close to violence and death..

"Even now?" As he said the words, it became clear to him that it wasn't strange at all to want to do something joyous, something life affirming in the wake of death and terror. He could feel his own blood thrumming through his veins, his body just on the cusp of arousal as she sighed against him.

She nodded, curling her fingers into the vee of his shirt. The hair at his chest tickled her fingertips. The fear that had been coursing through her only moments before was completely gone, but her heart was still pounding, her blood pumping through her body at full velocity. Of course it would come back to this… of course.

His arms tensed around her, and he opened his mouth to make a suggestion but ended up closing it like a fish on dry land. Trying again, he cleared his throat. "Maybe… I could help with that. For now."

In response, she turned her head toward him, breathing deeply in the hollow of his neck before pressing a hot kiss to the skin. The fire in her belly flared to life, war drums beating in her ears as she pressed closer.

There it was, pressed against her stomach, the hard and throbbing proof of his desire. It surprised her, stoking the flames. Her tongue darted out to taste him, and he hissed, dragging his hands down her back and cupping the gently rounded surface of her exposed skin.

He lifted her, the muscles in his arms bunching as he hauled her up on the hood of the roller. Instinctively her knees fell apart at his touch, moaning as he notched himself between her thighs. Her face drew away from the skin of his neck, rubbing instead against the tickling stubble of his jaw like a feline in need of a good caress.

She was ready, hot and squirming against him. Whatever hesitation there was fluttered away in the night when her hand found his belt buckle. She undid the clasp, deftly making short work of buttons. Her slim fingers wrapped around his length, eyes widening in surprise at his girth.

She'd seen him before, a momentary flash before he jumped into a cold lake, a quick peak while changing in a close quarters. But he had never been like this, thick and standing at attention. She'd never really thought about whether or not they would be physically compatible, and the size beneath her touch was more than she'd anticipated.

She swallowed, intending to voice her concern, but the glowing in desire in Nolan's eyes stopped the words in her chest. He withdrew from her grasp, taking back control. Touching her, the calluses of his fingers gently abraded her skin, tracing the softness of her inner thigh as he trailed closer to her aching center.

He pushed her back against the cool metal of the hood, watching as moonbeams undulated on her face. Seeing her like this, bare from the waist down, thin cotton clinging to the curves of her upper body as it pooled beneath her - hunger for him etched in every line of her body; it undid him.

She was his, for better or worse. His to protect, his to fear. Somewhere in back of his mind he'd known they'd been hurtling toward this. His throat felt tight when he looked down at her, emotion catching in his chest.

She quivered beneath his touch, growling in frustration at his hesitation. "Nolan."

He slipped into her, feeling the slick heat against his fingertips, the muscles in her belly clenching as she arched herself toward him. He teased her, brushing his thumb against her clit as he curled his fingers upward. She was pure fire in his hands, clenching around him in the first pulsating spasms of her climax. He'd never seen anything like it, so instantaneous it was borderline miraculous.

One of her small fists came down on the hood, coinciding with a helpless yell as she twisted beneath him. He began to withdraw, but just as he slipped from between her thighs, the heels of her feet dug into his backside. "Where are you going?"

It was a question full of need, and he saw the embarrassment flash across her face. He reached forward, sweeping a lock of hair away from her face. "You still-"

She cut him off. "Yes... What you just did... It's good, but..." She paused, struggling to articulate what she instinctively felt. "I need something more... substantial?"

Nodding, he reached for her, grabbing her by her hips and pulling her down the hood of the roller.

First he traced a line down one shoulder, all the way to her fingertips, laying gentle kisses against her burning skin. She shivered at the unexpected gentleness, gasping when he slipped his hands beneath the voluminous fabric of her shirt.

Skimming the flat of her stomach, his knuckles caught the soft fleshy undersides of her breasts, teasing the sensitive skin. He took pleasure in the expressions chasing across her face. She was quickly becoming impatient. "Nolan... Take off your shirt, now."

He chuckled softly at the familiar bossy tone, he tossed his shirt to the ground. It was so strange how little their dynamic changed, even during this. She propped herself up on her elbows, panting. "Stop dallying, and get on with it!"

He caught the downward turn of her lips in a bruising kissing, fisting his hand in the hair at her nape at the same moment he pushed into her. He devoured the resulting moan, swallowing it down with the last bit of his own patience.

Her rounded nails dug into the muscles along his spine, leaving little crescent moons marking the flesh. She was urging him on, panting against his lips whenever he rocked into her.

He wanted to be gentle, worrying about her possible discomfort, the tightness around him a cause for concern. It took every ounce of self control he had to stop and study her face, looking for any sign she wanted him to stop.

Her eyes flew open when he stilled, her own hips bucking toward him to make up for his seeming lack of enthusiasm. He sank a little deeper, watching her mouth twist in pleasure. There didn't seem to be any turning back at this point, for either of them.

He withdrew almost all the way, pausing only a millisecond before rocking back into her. She grunted, raking her nails across his back. Pain and pleasure had always been close companions of Nolan, and the stripes across his back were like whip marks urging him onward.

Grabbing one of her knees, he hooked it upward, plunging even deeper with his thrusts. The flames were licking at him, threatening to consume him. He had to outrun them, or at least avoid turning into a pile of ashes before Irisa ignited.

She was whispering in his ear, words in her own language he'd never heard before, the consonants occasionally cresting in sharp little yells. Just when he thought he couldn't go any longer, she let out an ear piercing wail, shuddering against him almost violently. He thrust into her one last time, letting the quivering contractions around his length finish the job for him.

He clung to her like a life raft, grunting as came. Years of habit told him he should pull out, spend himself on the smooth expanse of her stomach. He didn't, instead choosing to stay buried in her warmth as long as possible. It didn't matter. Irathients and humans couldn't produce offspring, not in this way. He wondered at the disappointment suddenly settling over him.

He was leaning heavily on top of her. She was limp now, the legs around his waist falling away with a deep sigh. He thought she might say something, some flippant remark to break this new tension, but nothing came. He gently withdrew, peering at her in the moonlight. There were tears rolling silently down her face, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"Irisa?" He whispered her name, as if he was afraid she might hear it, might respond with regret.

She continued to cry. "Th-thank you... Finally."

Her eyes drifted shut, the last aftershocks skittering through her limbs finally abating. The soft little snores were the only thing that clued Nolan into what was happening. He lifted himself off of her, gently scooping her up and carrying her back to the tent.

Tucking her under the blankets, he slid in behind her. He gathered her into a gentle embrace, only beginning to realize how exhausting this constant state of need was for her. He held her closer, praying she would sleep for a good long while.

 **A/N: Comments are always helpful and I appreciate them greatly, but to the person who left a comment because they don't like the ship... Let me say. I don't know why you felt the need to read this story when the ship is in the title, and no matter what you say, I don't feel like I'm writing an incestuous paring, and for you to leave the comment on the first chapter makes me think you didn't read past the summary. I'll never understand why people go looking for ships they don't like.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/n: very sad that this show is no longer on the air, I loved it while it lasted. Please feel free to comment, it makes my day.**

The sound of birds screeching pierced Nolan's ears. It jerked him from the depths of an uncomfortably dark and murky dream, blurry shapes careening away from him as the real world intruded. The first thing he did was reach for her, arms catching empty air in the tent beside him, a worried wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. Surely Irisa couldn't have taken off again, not after the disaster in the woods.

He pushed open the flap, instinctively laying one hand on the holster at his hip. Their spartan camp looked exactly has it had the night before, even the patterns in the dust in front of the roller were still intact, a slender set footprints between the waffle-like impression of his heavy army boots.

He crept silently from the tent, straightening to his full height as he walked over to the vehicle. He didn't know what to make of their tryst the night before. God, even calling it that seemed wrong, but he didn't have a word for what it was that they'd done. Last night there hadn't been time to contemplate the shift in their relationship, both of them falling into an exhausted unconsciousness almost immediately afterward. Looking down at the footprints made Nolan's ears hot and he kicked at the dust, scattering the evidence.

A sound in the bushes caught his attention, a faint rustling that would escape most people. He had his holster unbuttoned, thumb on the handle of his pistol, ready to draw. The tension melted away when a beam of sunlight filtered through the canopy overhead, lighting on the fiery red of Irisa's hair.

"Where have you been?" The question was gruff, and the stance he took defensive. He couldn't help it, images of her at the mercy of some filthy bandit were still imprinted on his retinas, the memory of a helplessness he'd never known before too fresh in his mind.

She glared at him in return, holding up a string of fish for him to look at. "Where does it look like I've been? Picking wildflowers?"

He softened, one corner of his mouth twitching up. Sometimes he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Dealing with such a smartass shouldn't make him want to grin, it shouldn't make his heart swell with pride that she was so sharp-tongued.

He took the stringer from her, whistling softly at the weight of her bounty. "Breakfast?"

She nodded. "I have no desire to gnaw on that salted beef you love to buy in bulk… and I have my doubts about whether or not it's actually beef. When's the last time you saw a cow around these parts?" She made a face.

Everything was normal, or at least it seemed normal. The idea of bringing up the activities of the night before made him uncomfortable, a swirling sensation in his stomach paired with nervous fluttering in his chest urged him avoid the topic.

Of course Irisa could read his mind, or maybe it was the way he stood, frozen staring at her, lost in his own thoughts. She turned away from him, kneeling in front of the small fire pit she'd dug the day before. "There's nothing to talk about. Everything's still the same, but I'm better for now."

She piled twigs in a teepee shape over a bundle of dry grass. Her solar lighter made short work of the dry tender, flames instantly engulfing the pile of twigs. She worked quickly, crisscrossing slightly larger sticks over her little fire, not looking at him.

"Irisa, I-"

"We should be able to make it to Defiance before it becomes a problem again. Then it won't be your problem to solve."

Nolan watched her work. She slid the already gutted fish onto a makeshift spit resting over the flames. It was as though the previous night hadn't happened at all. Nolan wasn't an idiot though, he could see the way her shoulders were drawn up, the set of her jaw a little tighter than normal. She didn't have as good a poker face as she thought, but he was never one to push these kinds of things. If she didn't want to talk about it, neither did he.

The day passed quietly, the radio silent as they drove along the empty highway. Nolan didn't seem to be in the mood for his twangy country music. The whiskey soaked emotions of long dead men didn't quite hold the allure they usually did.

Irisa had lied to him, hoping fervently that he wouldn't see into the trembling depths of her heart. It was important that he stay ignorant of her feelings. The physical turn that their companionship had taken complicated matters, and she didn't want him thinking it had to stop.

In truth she wasn't sure if she would make it to Defiance before her knees were buckling with desire again, the quivering electric pulses in her gathering a debilitating amount of energy. This morning she'd felt the lazy desire curling in the pit of her stomach before the sun had completely crested over the hills. Nolan's beard tickling the back of her neck while hot little puffs of air slid down her spine hadn't helped matters at all.

Her short fishing trip had served a dual purpose. She needed to get away from him. The temporary relief he'd provided was damn near cancelled out by the way his body felt pressed up against her own. And she felt calmest when she was surrounded by nature, the rocks of the riverbank smooth against her skin, the bubbling water as refreshing to listen to as it was to dive in. She'd watched the sun rise from her lazy fishing spot, lolling by the water long after she'd caught breakfast.

Perhaps it had been a little bit dangerous in light of recent events, but this time her ears were pricked and her pistol was within arm's reach. She wouldn't have been ambushed a second time in two days. Nolan would just have to get over it.

She thought perhaps that was why he was so sullen, squinting more than usual at the road in front of him. She'd seen it in his eyes when she'd returned to the camp, the naked relief, soon replaced by irritation. This morning he'd clearly believed she'd run away again. She pretended not to notice his taciturn mood, instead focusing on the yellowed pages of an old paperback novel. Pre-votan earth was a strange strange place, and one she never tired of reading about. Unfortunately even in their day, these paperbacks weren't made to last, and the edges of pulpy paper crumbled under her fingertips as she gently turned the pages.

"Why do you read that nonsense?"

She peered at the faded cover, a bulbous headed creature with large bottomless black eyes stared back at her. "I read whatever I can find, you know that. Besides, this happens to be fascinating. Humans were obsessed with finding aliens, 'making contact' and 'being probed.' They just sound like a bunch of repressed idiots." She rolled her eyes. "And what's the deal with livestock mutilations? A votan would never do that. Humans on the other hand…"

Nolan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, flexing his fingers against the steering wheel. "For some of us it was more than an obsession with being probed. It was exciting to think that the universe was bigger than we'd ever imagined." He frowned, eyes clouding as he remembered his initial reaction to the ships skimming over the earth's atmosphere, the awe that quickly turned to trembling fear. "But it all turned out to be bullshit. Greed and cruelty are a universal theme."

"That's true." Irisa regretted the direction their conversation had taken. Reminding him of that awful time at the beginning of the wars was always a mistake, quiet and withdrawn for days as he steeped in the memories. She tossed the book over her shoulder into the back seat, eager to change the subject. "But it was either that or the smutty romance novels the lady at the trader's tent insisting on shoving into my bag back in Amarillo." She smirked at him, "I didn't think that would be a good idea, considering…"

He glanced at her, softly chuckling. "Ah, so that's why you were mooning around back in Texas after that cowboy." He was teasing her, but the last word came out a bit more derisively than he'd intended. Maybe mooning was a slight exaggeration, but Irisa was normally so reserved with strangers that a small smile and a few softly spoken questions were enough to clue Nolan in on her infatuation, and the object of her attentions had irked him.

The man had worn spurs for god's sake, in spite of the fact that there weren't any horses for miles. But he'd had a mop of blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Just the thing to draw beautiful women close enough to admire his strategically placed belt buckle, the kind rodeo champions used to wear. Nolan had stopped short of dragging Irisa away from the idiot's leatherwork table. Infatuations passed, he knew that.

Irisa was staring at Nolan open mouthed, cheeks hot with embarrassment. "You noticed? Why didn't you say anything? I made an ass out of myself over him, and he wasn't interested at all."

"Relax. You didn't make an ass of yourself. There were half a dozen other women being way more obvious."

Her chagrin faded somewhat, replaced by amusement. "He was nothing like the dashing hero in 'His Desert Rose.' That guy fought off a band of savage warriors to save a kidnapped woman he didn't even know. Randy probably would have cried if he got a hangnail."

"Randy? What kind of name is that?" Nolan snorted. A silly name for a silly man.

"You tell me. All human names seem silly to me, Joshua."

"No one calls me that."

"Sure." She didn't comment on the fact that he sounded almost jealous, mostly because she was sure she was mistaken. She couldn't help but test the waters though. "Maybe there will be more Irathients there. I need to find someone. I'm tired of being alone."

"You're not alone."

"You know what I mean." She hadn't meant to sound wistful, but there it was in a soft sigh. "It'll be strange being around so many people in Defiance."

"We've been in cities before."

"Yes, but this feels like it'll be different. I don't know how long…" She trailed off, not wanting to get back into an uncomfortable discussion. "I might have to stay in Defiance for a while, and I know you don't like staying any one place for very long."

"Wherever you go, I go." He reached across the console, scooping up her hand in his. "I'm not going to leave you just because things are a little tough right now."

She nodded, acknowledging the serious expression on his face. Her throat was clogged with emotion, words falling to pieces before they could even form sentences. She loved him, the way he spoke so firmly, with such conviction, the way his hand felt clasping hers, firm yet gentle. She squeezed back, instead of replying. The silence enveloped them once again, this time more comfortably than before. Neither felt the need to fill it.

Irisa watched the sky ahead of them, darkening as it did in the middle of the day was never a good sign. The atmosphere had been compromised by the years of war, and weather patterns were unpredictable. Driving as they were through such flat land, there was the ever present danger of tornadoes and equally damaging straight-line winds. Add that to the arkfall littering the countryside and it was a recipe for disaster.

A horizontal lightning bolt zipped across the sky, branching into half a dozen little electrical currents. The clap of thunder was instantaneous and Irisa could feel the it in the air, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

The rain came in big fat drops increasing in volume almost exponentially as they drove. It was as though some giant were dumping huge buckets of water directly onto their roller. The wipers couldn't really keep up, barely dashing it away before more gushed down. "We should pull over."

"We can't just pull over, there's nowhere to go."

He was right, of course, but it didn't make her feel any better. She hated storms, had been left alone one time to many as a small child to weather them in the dark. Clenching her jaw, she fought the urge to argue with him. They had to get out of this torrential mess and soon. Big gusts of wind battered the roller from one side, rocking it slightly as Nolan pressed on.

Finally he slowed to a stop, pulling the vehicle into a depression along the side of the highway. He nodded toward a dark blur about a hundred feet ahead of them. "There's an overhang, maybe a cave, over there. Grab some blankets and something to eat. We'll wait it out there, and pray to god that the roller doesn't get flipped in the wind.

She was quick, shoving dried meat and fruit into her knapsack and hooking her fingers through the laces of their bedding bundle. She took a deep breath and swung the door open, dashing through the downpour toward the dark shelter. As expected, she was instantly soaked, water blurring her vision as she jogged along. Nolan was right behind her, one hand at her elbow guiding her to the natural shelter.


	8. Chapter 8

Irisa watched the mouth of the cave, arms crossed in front of her chest protectively. She was wet and cold, shivers cascading across her body every few minutes. She ignored the sounds of Nolan behind her, unrolling the oilskin so they'd have something dry to sit on. Sitting wasn't what she wanted, the muscles in her back were tense, and she took to pacing back and forth, glaring out into the storm as though she could make the rain and the wind stop through sheer force of will.

It didn't help that she was starting to feel wound up again, restless in a way that had only one solution. There were no cold bodies of water she could go jumping into this time… not that it had helped much before. If the storm would just stop they could get back on the road. Defiance couldn't be that far away.

The wind suddenly shifted, blowing a sheet of rain through the mouth of the cave, soaking Irisa's already wet clothes. She cursed, stomping back to where Nolan was digging a makeshift fire pit.

He chuckled at the sight of her, angry and wet, the light of his flashlight glinting in her narrowed eyes. "You never liked being wet."

"Who does?"

He glanced up at her, a devilish smile flitting across his face before he looked away. "I can think of one or two people."

Her cheeks flamed, but she pretended not to notice his innuendo. He'd always said things like that in the past and she'd never thought much about it other than rolling her eyes. Those comments had never been directed at her, and being well acquainted with the feeling he was hinting at made a big difference. She clenched her teeth together turned away from him. "This is ridiculous." Snatching her knapsack off the oil skin, she dug through it, frowning when she only came up with only one dry article of clothing. "How long do you think we'll be stuck here?"

He shrugged, piling the twigs he'd found in the cave in a heap. "These strong storms never last too long, but the sun will be setting in about half an hour. Might as well stay the night."

He didn't even look up at her, focusing instead on the curl of smoke drifting up from his pit. It lazily swirled up to the low ceiling of the cave, before catching on an invisible current and wafting away. He smiled. "Good, there's ventilation. At least we can build a fire."

Irisa took off her wet jacket, draping it across one of the boulders at the back of the cave. "You don't have enough firewood to last all night."

"We'll be fine."

When he smiled, it was infectious, and the corners of her mouth twitched up in response, a flutter of involuntary happiness kicking up beneath her sternum. Her irritation floated away, replaced almost instantly with a familiar sense of camaraderie.

She crossed the space, leaning on a rock beside him. "Do you remember when our roller broke down in the Rockies?" she asked.

He nodded, turning away from his smoldering fire to look at her. "How could I forget? You spent the next two months trying to convince me we should get a dog."

She laughed. "The extra body heat would have been nice. I thought I was going to lose my toes to frostbite."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic, your toes were in no danger."

She had been fine. The memory of Nolan rolling her up in his furs and building a roaring fire in the middle of nowhere was still one of her go-to happy moments. He'd boiled peppermint tea, and sang off key Christmas carols until she'd been weak with laughter, toasty in her bundle of furs. She'd asked him why he sang Christmas songs, and he'd said it just felt like a Christmas kind of night, even though it was early March. He'd even produced a present for her, pressing a hastily whittled wooden figure into her hand. It looked like a rather lumpy horse. The next day they'd caught a ride into town in spite of the fact that they looked like lunatics singing on the side of the road.

She shivered again. It was hard to imagine she'd once been so cozy. Now she felt a chill that could only be achieved while wearing damp clothes. It was the kind of cold that inched it's way down into her skin, icy fingers creeping down into her bones. She stomped her feet to do away with it, but was only rewarded with the uncomfortably squishy feeling of wet socks.

Nolan spread their blankets out over the oilskin, his back to the cave wall. "You'll have to take off your wet clothes if you want to get warm. Lay them out to dry a little on the rocks by the fire. Do you have anything dry to wear?"

She looked down at the material hanging from her fingertips. It was a nightshirt she'd bought at the last place they'd stopped, little blue flowers embroidered along the collar, a scalloped hemline that would barely reach her mid thigh. "Just this."

She was blushing. It never occurred to her that Nolan would ever see this thing. For some reason it always seemed important that she hide her femininity, it made her feel too vulnerable in the circles that they ran in. But she'd been drawn to the beautifully made thing like a moth to a flame, fingering the fine stitching in the clothier's shop with an air of wonder. The woman had seen right through her, insisting that she buy the garment. She'd left the shop in a rush, stuffing her purchase into the bottom of her knapsack where it had stayed ever since.

"As long as it's dry…" Nolan didn't seem to notice her discomfort, barely glancing at her before moving to take off his own wet jacket and digging through his bag. "Damn it, nothing but a t-shirt and a few pairs of socks. I should have grabbed my duffel. I'll have to go back and get it."

Lighting cracked, thunder punctuating his statement. It seemed as though the wind was whipping up worse than before. "That's probably not a good idea." Her cheeks grew hot, a sensation she was quickly becoming weary of, and she tried to push away the idea of exploring him unhindered by clothing. It was losing battle, the muscles of her pelvic floor tensing in anticipation, mouth suddenly dry. Curiosity fanned the embers inside of her until they glowed hotly. "I'm sure your underclothes will be fine."

He nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. She turned away from him so he could disrobe privately, listening with pricked ears so she would know when he was safely under the blankets. It was ludicrous, really, after what they'd done the night before, but somehow she felt more bashful about him than ever.

When she was sure he was tucked in, his back facing her for propriety's sake, she quickly yanked off her clothes, dragging the soft cotton night shirt over her head. The scooped neck dipped all the way to her sternum, material draping over the gentle curve of her breasts as though it were made specifically for her. For a moment she forgot where she was, touching the cotton against her skin in an exploratory manner.

A log crackling in the fire snapped her out of it, a shower of sparks flying up into the air. She quickly snatched up her damp clothes and spread them out over the rocks before sliding under the blankets. Normally she wouldn't hesitate to tuck herself under Nolan's arm, rest her cheek against his chest and absorb his warmth. Instead she laid on her side, back to him. Things were different now.

She could hear him breathing deeply, beginning to drift. The heat of his small fire filled the cave quickly, flickering shadows dancing across the ceiling. She supposed since neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before, it would be good to take advantage of their early night. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on relaxing all the tense muscles of her body. It was a trick she usually used when she was too keyed up to go to sleep. Starting at her toes and traveling all the way up to her ears, eventually she would let go of the tension.

It seemed to work, at first, but focusing so intently on her body soon morphed into imagining someone else doing just that. When she closed her eyes she could nearly feel firm hands skimming across her abdomen, squeezing her gently before playfully pinching here and there. Her only recourse was to remain as still as possible and hope that Nolan would fall asleep before her imagination got the better of her.

She let out a long sigh when his snores finally began to echo off the walls of the cave. Her fingertips itched to feel the smooth heat of bare skin, but she was disappointed to find that it wasn't her own body she ached to touch.

In sleep, Nolan seemed to take up even more space, legs sprawled outward, arms relaxed at his side. He was one of those people who would spread out into a full starfish before sunrise if you let him, grunting and sighing in his sleep as he shifted position. At the moment, Irisa could only look at his face, the blankets tucked up to the stubble on his chin.

His cheeks were smooth, slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes telling the tale of frequent laughter. The shadow of a crease between his eyebrows hinting at how fierce he could be sometimes. She couldn't help herself, the palm of one hand slipping out from under the covers to touch his cheek. It tickled, this stubble raking across her soft skin. He looked bronzed in the firelight, a statue in peaceful repose.

Her hand followed the line of his jaw, one finger tracing the edge of his earlobe before drifting down his neck and resting on his pulse. It was slow and steady, beating like a taut drum against her, the heat from his skin seeping into her.

His eyes fluttered open, bright and alert. The pulse under her finger jumped and then slowed again. She gasped, starting to pull away. "You were faking!"

He captured her wrist gently, thumbing the fine bones there slowly. He tugged her closer, looking at her with a question on his lips. "Do you need this?"

She knew what his question meant. He wanted to know if she was in need of release. She meant to say no, to confess that what she felt now was altogether different than the night before, but when he slowly kissed her hand, hot breath sighing against the heel of her palm, she nodded, full of longing.

It wasn't exactly a lie. She wanted it badly, her stomach jumping expectantly as his free hand followed the line of her nightshirt down to it's hem. Pent up desire shot through her, nervous laughter bubbling up involuntarily. Sure she wanted it, but it wasn't because of hormones or some weird biological issue. This was the desire of a woman who knew what pleasure could be had at the hands of a particular man, a desire that made her ache to taste him, to join in a slow and leisurely fuck. This wasn't desperation, at least not like she'd experienced before.

He caught the hem of her shirt, dragging it upward, skimming along her thigh. He smiled under her hand when he got to her hip, squeezing gently at the flesh. "You're not wearing any underthings?"

Her eyes flashed in the firelight, an answering smile on her lips. "Well, you said I should take off my wet clothes."

Laughter rumbled through his chest, and he let go of her wrist, reaching across her midsection to drag her on top of him. She was laughing again, this time at his playfulness. She didn't know it could be like this. All the women she'd known had spoken about it in such serious tones, and the men were a bunch of crude idiots that quite frankly had put her off the idea. But this… this was nice. She felt relaxed and keyed up all at once, wiggling against him as his hands explored under her delicate shirt.

She'd been afraid to initiate this again, afraid that he'd only been doing her a favor the night before, but watching him here in the flickering firelight made her feel confident this was something he enjoyed too.

His hand skimmed down her spine and she shivered, barely able to catalogue the feeling before he parted her thighs from behind, dipping his fingers into the moist heat she'd teased him with only moments before, searching for and finding the apex of desire. She squeaked in surprise, jumping against him as he brushed against her swollen clit. Last night, every touch sent an almost devastating wave of pleasure crashing on top of her. This time she felt delicate and exposed, every part of her body begging to be touched, but in a very specific way.

She buried her face in his neck, hunching her shoulders forward as she curled into him, hands resting gently along his ribs, breasts flattened against his chest. Slowly he slipped into her, parting the folds with two fingers. She rocked against him, angling her hips so he could go just a little deeper. His knuckles pressed up against her, and she contracted against him, moaning into the hollow of his neck.

Her tongue darted out, lapping gently at his pulse, nose nuzzling the underside of his chin as she rocked almost imperceptibly, small precise movements against his hand. This is what she had wanted, this closeness, tasting him as he touched her. She lifted her head, reaching up to slide her fingers into his slightly curling hair. Kissing him slowly was an education in textures. His lips were soft yet firm, his stubble tickling her as she dove in to find his tantalizingly slippery tongue..

His fingers abruptly withdrew from inside of her, and she released his lips with a smack, disappointment in her eyes. She realized what he was doing, angling her hips with one hand as he reached down between them. Soon the tip of his cock rested against her, rubbing back and forth against the moisture at the apex of her thighs. She eased down on him, feeling fuller than before, leaning forward again to kiss him.

It was perfect now, his hands free to tangle in her hair, to palm her breasts as she moved up and down along his length. When he was fully inside of her she felt like she was going to explode, clenching around him in a mild paroxysm every time she bumped against his pelvic bone, taking him in as far as possible.

The night before had been so quick, so explosive. This time she felt it building, like one of the symphonies people sometimes played at the fancier establishments they'd stopped at. Slow notes of a sensuous melody drowning in the crescendo of drums and horns. It was a longer process, but she could already feel intimations of the pleasure to come, solo melodies rising above everything else.

She heard moans echoing in the cave, and it was a full minute before she realized it was her own voice making the noises. Half a second's worth of embarrassment flooded her before she was overcome with another crest of pleasure shuddering through her.

Nolan was breathing hard under her, hands at her waist gripping tight. He was clearly close to the same point of no return. She threw her head back, sitting up so she could ride him fully, pace quickening. One of his hands slipped from her hip to her mons, dipping down to gently massage her clit in time with her movements. It was the last straw, an animalistic yell tearing through her lungs as she climaxed around him.

Quickly he flipped her over, burying himself in her one last time as all the muscles in his body spasmed her own aftershocks, spilling himself hotly inside of her. Their harsh breathing was the only sound in the cave. The storm had stopped, barely even a gentle swishing through the trees around the rock facing.

Nolan kissed her again, this time slow and thorough, plucking at her swollen lips. She could feel him smiling, and moved to kiss the corner of his mouth. Once again he laughed quietly, rolling to the side and gathering her up in his arms. She tucked her head under his chin, just like she'd wanted to all night.

The sound of his voice rumbled in her ear, vibrations pleasant against the cheek pressed against his sternum. He said, "Well, that was certainly different."

She didn't have a response, feigning sleep so she wouldn't be found out. This whole thing was spinning wildly out of her control, and she didn't want to contemplate his reaction if he knew that what they'd just done had absolutely nothing to do with certain undeniable needs.


End file.
